


All I See, All I Need

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: cottoncandy_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 05:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/523712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is Stiles always the one the magic potion hits?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I See, All I Need

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt vivid. I guess I'm trying something with style here. And it's also for [brokentoy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brokentoy/works?fandom_id=258526) who has been writing some FANTASTIC Derek/Stiles lately. Go read.

Stiles isn’t sure what happened. One moment he was minding his usual business (running scared from something that wanted to rip out his lungs) and then, in the next, the world was full of stars.

Maybe this was what werewolf senses felt like. Stiles dropped to his knees, suddenly unable to stand the input of noise and colour and swirling, fluorescent, pulsating lights, slamming his eyes shut. In some ways it was totally the end of E.T. but he couldn’t even laugh at the comparison. Stiles grabbed at the ground, the dirt, trying to calm himself. That was a mistake. Instead of being soft leaf mulch and mud, the ground was made of a thousand tiny stones, twigs, needles that stabbed and tore at his skin. It was harder to breathe, suddenly, as his nose was attacked by the intensity of the woods. He swore he could smell a rabbit back there, fur and blood and not much else.

There was another smell, a familiar one, one Stiles didn’t even realise he recognised until it was magnified a thousand, a million times. He sorted through the familiar leather/oil/smoke/blood scent until he realised it was Derek. Underneath the smell of all the things he did, there was something else, something Stiles breathed in and out, something that overwhelmed the pain, the lights, the nausea. Derek’s heart was beating faster now.

“Stiles?” Who would have known that someone saying his name would be that painful? Stiles clapped his hand to his ears, wincing and screaming in pain. His ear drums felt like they were being shredded. He braced himself, ready for the inevitable hand on his shoulder, for his skin to feel like it was being peeled back, his bones cracked and ground into meal. Instead Derek’s fingertips brushed his cheek, soft, butterfly light. Without really thinking it through, Stiles opened his eyes.

The world was still on steroids, bigger, brighter and bolder than it should be. But in the middle of the chaos, there was Derek. Stiles had never noticed his eyes. Well. No. He noticed Derek’s eyes a whole lot when they were red and alpha and coming to get him. But he’d not spent any time noticing the multitude of colours, the blue, green, gold flecks all mixing together around his inky black pupil. Stiles couldn’t look away, trying to count all the different shades that made up Derek’s eyes. Then Derek blinked. Black lashes, long, curling slightly, whispered as they brushed against soft cheeks. Stiles wasn’t even ashamed as he reached out and brushed his fingertips over the curve of Derek’s cheekbone, the skin tissue soft.

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice was softer now, didn’t make Stiles want to clutch his ears and scream anymore. He reached out, palm open wide and cupped Stiles’ cheek. His skin was warm, hot even, but it didn’t scrape and jar like Stiles thought it might. He focused on the heat of Derek’s palm, the iridescence of his eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. The rest of the world, the way it was all way too much, seemed to slip away as Stiles traced his fingertips down the bridge of Derek’s nose, across his lips. The fact he could feel every bump, every tiny change in texture made Stiles even more eager to explore. 

“I think that they threw something at you. I can smell it.” Derek was barely moving his lips. “I think it’s meant to overwhelm the senses.”

“Makes sense.” Stiles’ voice was loud in his own ears, but Derek still ducked closer to hear, making his eyes, his face, block out even more of Stiles’ peripheral vision. He was so close that every single one of Stiles’ crazily enhanced senses seemed filled with Derek. Stiles breathed him in, drank him in, until the whole world seemed to stop spinning and Derek seemed to diminish and fit back into his skin. Stiles kept his hand where it was. Derek shifted, realising Stiles was better now. He tried to pull away but Stiles couldn’t let him. He slipped his hand around Derek’s neck, holding on tight. “Don’t- Not-“

Suddenly, it came to him, with no small amount of intense embarrassment, that he was hard. Totally tenting the front of his pants. Derek’s eyes widened when Stiles looked back up and a flush spread across his cheeks. Stiles could feel his own face burning too. He should let go, scramble backwards, pretend none of this actually happened. But then Derek’s hand was on his cheek again, cupping his jaw, drawing him close. Stiles went, closing the gap between them, finally allowing himself to taste.


End file.
